


No love without you

by McLavellan



Series: A Love for the Ages [3]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Regency Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:08:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23664385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McLavellan/pseuds/McLavellan
Summary: Cullen recieves a note while away fighting a war and realises he must return home immediately.
Relationships: Cullen Rutherford/Sebastian Vael
Series: A Love for the Ages [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1703947
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9
Collections: The Captain and the Duke





	No love without you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cullenlovesmen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cullenlovesmen/gifts).



> Hey turdblossom. Have a gift fic.
> 
> This is un beta'd because.... You do all that for me so how could I surprise you?
> 
> Tini has helped dme give it a little whumph. But I do feel some day I will try to make it as good as her help deserves. And your gift deserves.

> _ Come home.  _
> 
> _ He has taken ill.  _
> 
> _ ~ B _

  
  


Captain Rutherford's hands were shaking still as he stumbled to the tent. He was thankful then, that Lord Hawke met him there, catching him and uttering most urgently that he had also received the news and Rutherford was to leave immediately, should he believe himself able. 

And able he believed himself to be as he mounted his horse not a half hour later and sped into the cold evening. 

He met trouble on the way that he barely seemed to acknowledge. French soldiers, the near sinking of a ship upon which his wounds were being tended and, on English soil, bandits that crushed his foot underhoof. Yet through it all he fought on, thinking only of his husband. No pain seemed greater than that which mounted in his heart, unforgiving.

He thought of the letter with so few words that meant far too much. For such brevity meant almost certain death and the instruction was to return home before he'd never have the chance to hold his husband while he was still warm. While he still breathed. 

The stable hands rushed to take his horse as he came swiftly from her, alarmed that the Captain would have driven her so hard her eyes bulged and mouth frothed. The mare was panting, shaking on her legs as they tried to lure her to the safety and warmth of a stable while her master mounted the steps of the house, following the few lit candles and quiet murmurs to Sebastian's room. To his death bed. 

"He lives?" Cullen gasped, crashing through the door. 

Startled, the Doctor woke from a slumber muttering his "What's" and "good Lords". 

Bonnie, the author of the note, Sebastian's most trusted servant, took Cullen's hand and pulled him to the bed where the man lay pale and covered in a fine sheen of sweat. His chest rose and fell, though very slightly, and the Captain tumbled to his knees with a sob.

"Let's not fall apart," the doctor grunted, rising to his feet. "He's over the worst of it now. You look strong enough to lift him while the maid changes the sheets. I have left them with instructions to call for me if need be."

And with that the Doctor was gone, only happy to leave his patient with a good man, and not Miss Bethany or the caring staff. Cullen was glad, at least, to be left in trusted company. He assisted silently, undressing his husband, fingertips grazing over new creases and dents in the body he loved so much. The body he knew better than his own aching one. Sebastian was thin, his face etched in unease, thought it almost seemed to soothe as Cullen brushed a wet cloth upon his brow, listening intently to the sigh it drew out. Such a very slight and unsteady sound. He pressed their foreheads together, moving the cloth lower, to shoulders and arms, willing them to find strength. But none came. The man lay limp and still in his arms as he began wrapping him in a fresh blanket to sit with him in his lap by the fire while Bonnie changed the bedsheets. He sat and cradled his Love, lips firmly against the hot temple, begging him not to slip away. Not to leave him here alone. He had brought light to Cullen's life and he could not face the darkness alone. 

"You ought to rest," Miss Bethany urged softly, some time later.

His eyes flickered and registered the morning birds singing outside the window as though none of this mattered. How could the world go on like this. 

"He does not respond. I… Cannot leave him to die alone. I have seen too much of that."

"He will not die. His fever has broken, not two nights ago. He is over the worst," Miss Bethany tried to assure him. 

The captain meant to argue but was stunned to silence that the battle truly had been fought in his absence. That he never would have made it for the end.

In his grief and guilt, he would not leave his husband's side, but agreed to a wash bowl and a change of clothes. 

Alone in the room, he shrugged his jacket and shirt off, hissing in pain at the wound in his side. He had forgotten it in his hurry to return home, patched it quickly on the boat. He had not, however, forgotten the injury to his foot, but rather ignored it once the pain had ceased to keep him company in favour of slowing him.

Once he'd washed his upper body and wore a new shirt, he attempted to remove his boots and let out another cry of pain. It was quite hopeless. A second attempt left his vision white for a few moments and did not dare try again, lowering his breeches to wash and then pulling them back up. It could wait. 

He lay down beside Sebastian, knowing that, between Bonnie and Miss Bethany, nobody would breach the room without his knowing first. And so he settled close, lay a hand on his lover's chest to feel it and seek signs that it strengthened. Every so often there would be a strong intake of breath, but always filled by a staggering outtake, almost hissing from Sebastian's lips. 

He kissed them when it came time to give Sebastian water, wetting them with the underside of a spoon, gently letting drops fall between them, into his mouth. But there was no response to the kiss. So he gave more water, sickly sweet smelling with herbs and sugar that soothed his own pains, dulled his mind into something more comfortable. Rather than terrified he became only worried, repeating the words to himself "he is over the worst of it". 

He stroked Sebastian's throat, thumb gently pressing by the man's pulse as he took more water, helped ease his throat to swallow. And he lay kisses on his husband's throat too, caressed his sides beneath his ribs, stroked his soft member, praying for reactions that never came. Nothing he could do seemed to rouse Sebastian. 

So he rested his head close enough to kiss Sebastian's cheek, to murmur sweet adoration and prayers and plead his return to consciousness. 

"I thought you had taught me to love, but if you leave me I shall never feel it again. I cannot love without you. I cannot live without you."

As Cullen tended to his husband, each step became more agonising, the pain pulsing from his foot threatening to drag him into his own unconsciousness. But his resolve did not waver. Not until he saw the blue eyes he cherished so dearly would he give into a single of his own needs besides supping enough to keep strength and sleeping enough to watch over the rest of the hours. And even when he slept, it was with his beloved. 

"My sweet, sweet Leannan," came a voice as darkness dragged at his mind. 

A trick, he told himself, having been fooled before by sleep. And so he nestled a little closer to his love and sighed quite sadly. 

"What troubles you?" it asked. 

"That you might leave me," he answered. 

It laughed softly and stroked his hand. 

"I would never conceive of trying."

Cullen opened his eyes and cursed the tears for obstructing his view of the bright blue irises that gazed upon him. 

"Sebastian," he gasped, sitting up. "My one true love, Sebastian, you are returned to me."

He fussed and fretted as the man struggled to keep himself awake, called for the doctor, hovering over his shoulder, assisting despite the man's rude curiosity. 

"And what is that smell? Something is festering." The doctor checked Sebastian over before looking to Cullen. "Have you washed?" 

"Yes sir," Cullen bit. "I have."

"Then something in here has died. I suggest you put your energy to finding and removing it."

But Cullen did not. His strength was out to aiding Sebastian's needs and pretending as though his foot did not feel as though it threatened to murder him. 

It was not until the early hours of the morning, as Sebastian's health seemed more certain to return and his eyes remained open long enough to converse, that Cullen admitted to his foot being the source of the horrid stench. 

"I have not removed my boots in a week. I fear now that I cannot."

Sebastian laughed softly and urged him to do so. 

His smile faltered as Cullen hesitated. 

"It can wait. Until you are fully well and rested. Sleep now."

"I dare say you look in more need, Leannan. You look awful, forgive my saying so," Sebastian told him, stroking back his hair and rubbing his knuckles softly on the beard growing upon Cullen's almost sickly pale face. 

"Then let us both agree to it and sleep together."

"Very well. I have missed waking up to you."

And so they closed their eyes, little knowing they would not wake side by side. For the worst was not over. 

  
  



End file.
